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by Gbookworm1737



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Domestic Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Nightmares, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Short & Sweet, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gbookworm1737/pseuds/Gbookworm1737
Summary: Geralt had never had a nightmare before. At least not to his knowledge.It was hard to believe that the Witcher could be scared of anything.OR: Geralt has a nightmare and Jaskier makes it all better :)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 14
Kudos: 288





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**Author's Note:**

> So quarrantine life has me reading all the geraskier content I can. I'm writing a story about them, but I don't want to post until I actually finish (cuz I'm really bad at losing interest in my stories *cough cough* all my other stories I've posted) 
> 
> So I think I'll stick to one-shots for now. Wrote this yesterday so there may be typos but yolo 
> 
> ENJOY <3

Jaskier jolted awake as at the feeling of pain in his right side. “mmmph” he grumbled. Wincing, Jaskier sat up. He frowned as the blanket slipped down his torso; coldness surrounded him. Jaskier’s disoriented mind scanned the room for the cause of disturbance, narrowing at every crook and cranny. The room was empty.

The beginning of dawn broke through the inn’s window.

Jaskier was seconds from plopping back down onto the mattress when the man beside him jerked, his hand sweeping across the mattress.

“Should have known” Jaskier muttered. “Thanks for disturbing my beauty sleep Geralt” Jaskier muttered. He laid back down and turned to his side, facing the Witcher. “You know I need at least six hours to function like a human.”

The Witcher made a pained noise. Jaskier frowned in confusion. “Geralt?” He whispered. He inched closer to the Witcher, concern bubbling in his chest. He rose to his forearm and peered over the man whose head yanked to the side.

 _oh,_ Jaskier thought stupidly. _a nightmare then._

Geralt had never had a nightmare before. At least not to his knowledge. It was hard to believe that the Witcher could be scared of anything.

“Geralt.” Jaskier murmured, brushing a stray lock of white hair from the man’s forehead. “Wake up.” He urged, nudging the man’s shoulder. Geralt frowned. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his nose scrunched up. Jaskier felt the way the man tightened up beneath him. Still, he stroked his fingers along the man’s forehead, tracing the creases of tension. “It’s just a nightmare darling.”

When the Witcher showed no signs of calming, Jaskier shook his shoulder a bit more harshly. Granted, he’d heard stories how you should never shake a person who’s having a nightmare. He remembers his cousin who received a punch to the jaw for trying to wake her father during one of his many drunken slumbers.

But who was Jaskier to listen to rules? Never mind that the man was a Witcher and could probably snap his neck within seconds. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

He continued to shake the Witcher until finally, yellow eyes snapped open. Within seconds, a hand gripped his waist, and he was flipped over onto his back.

It happened so suddenly, Jaskier felt the wind get knocked out of him.

He gasped for breath as the man above him hovered, piercing eyes glaring into his soul.

Jaskier froze like a deer in the headlights.

Geralt’s breathing was laboured. In spasmodic movements that were so uncharacteristic of him, he scanned Jaskier’s body from head to toe. Deeming the bard in one piece, he turned over his right shoulder and scoped the room. The Witcher looked like an animal, tense and ready to pounce. White hair fell in front of Jaskier’s face, tickling his nose. He scrunched up his nose to alleviate the itch but to no avail. He tried his best to remain still.

A few minutes ticked by. “Uhm, not that I don’t love this position” Jaskier piped up. “But you’re a bit heavy.”

The Witcher jerked back to him. They locked eyes in the morning light.

Geralt pulled away. He moved to the edge of the bed and placed his feet on the ground. Jaskier was left staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell just happened, before sitting up as well.

“What the hell was that?” he blurted out. He grimaced as he watched the Witcher hunch forward, clearly uncomfortable. Jaskier cleared his throat and tried again. “Geralt?” He tried, softer this time.

“Go back to sleep Jaskier.” The man grumbled.

“I don’t think I can do that.” Jaskier replied, crawling towards the end of the bed. He pressed himself up against the man’s back, legs hooking in front of the Witcher’s body. Jaskier wrapped his arms tightly around Geralt’s torso, giving him a big squeeze as he pressed his cheek up against the man’s scarred back.

Geralt voiced his displeasure through a grumble. “Oh, shush up,” Jaskier scolded lightly. “You know you love it.”

“Hmm.”

“Back to one-worded syllables, are we? And here I thought we were making progress.” The Witcher remained silent. “Geralt, are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Jaskier sighed. Honestly, dealing with Geralt’s emotional constipation was like pulling teeth. “Was it about someone I know?”

There was a pregnant pause. “Yes.”

Jaskier hummed. When he stroked his hand down Geralt’s chest, he felt the muscles tighten underneath his palm. He rubbed his thumb against a patch of hair that was matted down from sweat. Jaskier’s body stuck to Geralt’s, but the bard didn’t mind. It must have been a terrible nightmare to stir such a response from him.

“Ciri’s safe darling.” Jaskier whispered, “She’s with Yen. Nothing’s going to happen to her.”

Geralt’s hands covered over Jaskier’s, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It wasn’t about Ciri.” He murmured quietly.

“Please tell me you didn’t dream of Yen.” Jaskier groaned.

Geralt snorted. “Please tell me you’re not that dense.”

Despite the sombre mood, Jaskier spluttered indignantly. “I’ll have you know I’m-Oh.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier hugged him a little bit tighter, if possible. He pressed a kiss to the man’s shoulder blade. “I’m not going anywhere.” Jaskier brushed Geralt’s hair over his left ear. He pulled himself up onto his knees because damnit Geralt was tall, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I promise.”

Geralt angled his torso sideways until he was facing the bard. Leaning forward, the Witcher cupped his hand underneath the bard’s jaw, guiding him towards a kiss. Jaskier melted instantly, reaching out to place his hand overtop his Witcher’s. The kiss was slow but passionate. Geralt may be a man of few words, but good God, Jaskier thought, his actions spoke volumes.

Without breaking the kiss, Jaskier snuck his left foot over Geralt’s right hip and shifted until he was on top of his lap. Geralt groaned, warm hands settling onto Jaskier’s bare hips. He broke the kiss, then began peppering kisses along Jaskier’s neck, leaning down to his collarbone.

Jaskier squirmed. “Tickles.”

Geralt gave a soft laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

Geralt captured one of Jaskier’s nipples and bit down. Jaskier jolted in his arms. When Geralt lifted his head, his eyes twinkled in mirth. “No, I’m not.” He agreed.

Despite the heated moment, Jaskier snorted, eyes crinkling in laughter. Geralt smiled at that, reaching up to brush soft curls from out of his face. The Witcher’s thumbs brushed against the corners of the bard’s eyes. “You look happy when you laugh.”

Jaskier bumped his nose against Geralt’s in a playful manner. “You make me happy.”

Geralt brushed his lips against Jaskier’s. “You make me happy too.” he confessed.

Jaskier gave a mock gasp. “Is that a Witcher confessing his feelings I hear?” He asked, scandalized.

Geralt’s head titled to the side. “Jask-” He warned, though his smile remained present.

“Must be a fine fellow.” Jaskier began, “To have caught the heart of such a handsome man.”

Geralt’s smile softened. “He’s a fine fellow indeed.” He agreed. The sincerity of his voice caused a pink hue to spread across the bard’s cheeks. He felt his face heat at the warmth of Geralt’s words. Ashamed, he turned his head to the side.

Geralt chuckled. He planted a kiss on the younger man’s cheek. “If I have known complimenting you would shut you up, I would have started a long time ago. You blush so pretty Jaskier.”

“Oh my God stop.” Jaskier whined as the rosy hue darkened into red splatters across his cheeks and neck. He tried to distract the man by rolling his hips, delighted to feel that familiar bulge pressed up against him. He frowned as Geralt’s hands stilled the movement. He looked back up at the Witcher. “What? Do you not want sex?” He huffed.

Geralt’s eyes had a softer edge as he kissed Jaskier once more. “Although the offer is tempting,” He grumbled, his voice coarse and damnit Jaskier shivered at the sound of it, “I would rather go back to bed with you in my arms.”

Jaskier brushed his thumb against Geralt’s soft lips. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Geralt nipped at the thumb, causing Jaskier to shriek. “Geralt!” He swatted at the man’s shoulder.

“I have had plenty of nightmares Jask. And I will likely have many more in the future.” He took the bard’s hand in his and kissed each knuckle. His glowing eyes glanced up at the man before him. “But it is comforting to know I have a safe place to come home to.”

Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s face, thumbs stroking over the stubble. He placed a gentle kiss to the man’s lips, his narrow nose, and finally his forehead. And as Geralt leaned them back onto the mattress that had grown cold in their absence, the man’s words replayed in the bard’s head.

Home. Such a strange concept. They had been on the road for over a decade, travelling the continent. They had shared nights in farmhouses and inns, to the cold surface of the earth with nothing but a bedroll and fire to keep them company.

They never had a home. Not a permanent one at least.

Jaskier shivered as Geralt lifted the blanked over his shoulder. He nestled into Geralt’s side, nosing his way until his head rested on top the man’s chest. His hand snuck up from underneath the covers and laid on top of Geralt’s stomach. He felt scars protrude above the surface, kissing his palm.

If he closed his eyes, Jaskier would be able to trace out all the scars along the Witcher’s body. He remembers being around for most of them, terrified when the man would come back from a hunt. Battered up from the creature’s claws.

But he always came back.

Jaskier preened as Geralt’s fingers wove through his brown tresses. He snuggled further, tangling his legs with Geralt’s.

He was caged in Geralt’s arms and he couldn’t be happier. He glanced up to see the man’s eyes were closed, and he could tell the Witcher was well on his way to sleep. Jaskier wrapped his arm across the man’s stomach, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest.

Indeed.

Geralt felt like home.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you liked it! Cheers <3


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